


Tell Me You Love Me

by anotherjadedwriter



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Chucklevoodoos, M/M, Mind Control, mild dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-03
Updated: 2014-03-03
Packaged: 2018-01-14 10:19:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1262638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anotherjadedwriter/pseuds/anotherjadedwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're so used to the way his chucklevoodoos wrap around and inside your pan that it's comforting. You really do love him, though, you know you do. Otherwise, you'd have never let him speak into your mind at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell Me You Love Me

He drapes himself around your shoulders, laying kisses over your neck and cheek and pressing against you, a purr shivering in his chest. You lean your head back to give him better access, smiling slightly.

You can already feel the warm pressure of his chucklevoodoos in your mind, pushing from all sides and slipping through the cracks in your psyche. Its a regular sort of feeling, strange in the same way that bathwater the same temperature feels strange, and not at all unwelcome.

Why, how else would he speak to you?

He pulls away to walk in front of you, his hands resting on your thighs and his eyes half-lidded as he kneels in front of you and looks up from resting his cheek on your knee. You smile down at him and brush your fingers through his hair.

“ **Tell me you love me.** " His voice echoes in your mind.

The words are on your lips before you think about it- probably from his voodoo, honestly -and you sort of slur them together, your voice sleepy, soft and dizzy.

"I love you."

He smiles that stitched smile and rubs your thighs, pushes them gently apart while he climbs up and pecks you on the lips. Well, with how his mouth is stitched shut, there’s really no other way for him to kiss you.

Not that you mention it, you’d probably trigger him somehow.

Before you can silently list the triggers you’d have to tag, he pulls your attention back to himself by rolling his hips into yours, smiling and poking around in your mind a little.

You sigh softly, your hips bucking lethargically against his. Your voice is still slurred and messy when you speak.

"Kurloz, that could potentially be triggering, if someone were to come in, and they did not have a partner with which to perform this sort of act. I think you should allow me to tag the triggers applicable before we continue."

His eyes roll towards the right and he leans back, removing the delicious pressure that was on your sheath and nook and making you whine softly.

“ **Fine, motherfucker. You got two minutes, then I take over.** ”

You smile. “TW: frottage, intercourse, dmah, dmah/dmah, highblood/lowblood, red color, slurr-” You break off in a moan as he grinds into you again, hard.

His hands push your shirt up and you grumble a little. “I wasn’t finished speaking, Kurloz, and though I respect your need for personal expression through interrupting others, I must ask you to try and control yourself for the comfort of others.”

“ **Motherfucker, shut up.** " His voice echoes in your pan, and your words die in your lungs.

You move with him, mewling and arching your back a little bit. His hands push under your pants and squeeze your ass. If you could speak, you’d reprimand him, but as it is you just glare at him for a second. He fairly grins, then pulls your pants down to where they’re just over your knees, and you keen at the cold of his hand wrapping around your bulge.

He keeps grinding his clothed bulge into your nook, his free hand holding your knees up by your pants. You mewl and wiggle against him so he’ll hurry up and get to it-er, not that you’d rush him, of course, you’re just gently encouraging him to go a bit _faster, damn it all._

He chuckles, and you’re not sure if you hear it or ‘hear’ it, but then he’s shoving his shorts and leggings off, his bulge seeking out your nook instantly. You moan and fight one of your legs free of your jeans to open your legs wider, then wrap around him and pull him deeper. He groans, his stitches pulling a little, and you lick his lips. After a moment of his bulge writhing inside you, he braces one knee on the couch under you and lifts his leg over yours so your bulge can push into his nook.

“ **Motherfucker, Kankri, tell me how it feels, fuck, fill me up with that hot bulge.** " He hisses, rotating his hips and arching his back as your bulges both shift.

"S-so good, oh, fuck, Kurloz, it’s great, I’m so full and you’re, you feel amazing, oh god, I love you.." You try, clinging to his shoulders. "I-it feels like, right."

He nods like you’ve said something profound, his eyes half-lidded and his arms tight and secure around you. You kiss his neck and jaw desperately, you wish you could properly kiss him but you’ll take what you can get, and with all the sensations and emotions going through your head and body and bulge, you’re not going to last long, so you’ll do what you can to make him come too.

In maybe four minutes, your nails dig into his shirt and you crush against him, gasping out a few moans as you fill him with candy red. He grunts and keeps moving even as your bulge slides out of his nook. It feels nice, though, cool on your woefully overstimulated nerves. After a little while, he fills you with indigo and you sigh, shivering.

He kisses your cheek, you feel the cloud of his chucklevoodoos a little stronger, and the next thing you know you’re in your coon, clean and empty, with a note stuck to your door.

Like usual.

Maybe some day you’ll get over your pride and realize that you don’t have to act like he Empress can hear you. Maybe you’ll stop being ‘chaste’, as far as most of your companions know.

But then, it is a little late to start now.

**Author's Note:**

> "Kurloz why are you leaving Kankri's house?"  
> \--multiple shrugging gifs--  
> if you enjoyed this, consider tipping me here: https://ko-fi.com/A781PZJ


End file.
